


Nobody Else But You

by hunted



Series: Original Works [8]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Adult Characters (Aged 21 or Older), Bechdel Test, Butch Lesbian Character, Butch/Butch, Crying, Doggy Style, Domestic, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Fluff, Girlfriend(s), LHB, Lesbian Character, Long Haired Butch, Love, Muscles, Not Beta Read, One Shot, Oral Sex, Pegging, Porn with Feelings, Romance, Smoking, Smut, Strap-Ons, Supportive Partner(s), Tattoos, Vibrators, it's been passed, the good kind, this was just supposed to be porn but it got very fluffy and sweet, what can i say- i'm a soft bitch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:14:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25950448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hunted/pseuds/hunted
Summary: A short love story about two butches.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Female Character
Series: Original Works [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1480958
Kudos: 50





	Nobody Else But You

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this music video](https://youtu.be/jhYF2qeMyRA), [this set of interviews](https://youtu.be/ORhdgE-R3iA), and all the butches who are notoriously underrepresented in LGBT+ fiction. I did research so that I could represent y'all properly. (Side note: these two butches can be whatever ethnicity you like, I've left their description open to interpretation.) Unfortunately, due to persistent injuries, I am very high on pain meds, so I hope this all makes sense and I haven't included a dozen spelling errors. Hope you enjoy!

Carson stepped out of the shower, bare feet touching against cool tile. The air was thick with steam, the mirror clouded over. She plucked her towel from its hook and dried off her body with perfunctory, bored movements.

The bare bulb overhead cast her in a dramatic, orange light. She stood at an intimidating five-foot-two-inches tall, her stance wide and steady, every action slow and controlled. Where many straight women worried about appearing too masculine, Carson was broad-shouldered and thick with muscle. Her girlfriend found her sexy, and she found _herself_ sexy. Tattoos adorned her thick, refined frame, veins snaking down her arms and across the backs of her hands. She watched her reflection as the steam cleared, meditating on her heavy, smokey grey eyes. A habit she had developed in her youth, as she looked for clues in her own face; clues as to why she was different, why she didn't fit in with her peers, why she wanted to love girls the same way that boys did. Now, she delighted in her own masculinity, pursuing visual androgyny with a hunger she had once been taught to repress. There was only one label which called to her, which offered a space as diverse as it was specific, allowed her a way to exist purely as herself. _Butch_.

Her head was shaved, close to the scalp. When she ran her palms over it, delighting in the sensation of bristled hairs, flecks of water shot into the air. She liked the sight of her rolling biceps, her strong arms as she reached up to feel the shape of her skull. She liked the drops of moisture that slid down her skin. She liked her heavy-lidded gaze, the strength of her presence. She liked being a shot, stocky, muscular woman. She liked the tapered shape of her belly, the fat and the muscle, the bulk of her thighs that framed her unshaven groin. She was everything she had grown up admiring.

Life was good.

Footsteps approached her, floorboards creaking. When Carson looked over, Anna was in the doorway. She was thinner and taller than Carson, not as muscular but equally as arresting in appearance. Her hair was long and straight, curtains of black emerging from the base of her beanie. She was smoking, hip cocked against the doorframe, wearing nothing else but a pair of denim shorts. They cupped the shape of her, and Carson loved the sight of her entire body, from her sloped, tired eyes to the dusting of dark hair that adorned her thighs.

Carson crossed the room, leaning into her girlfriend, arms encircling her in an easy embrace. They moved together like they had been made for this, made to fit against each other's bodies. Carson laid her temple against Anna's collarbone, and the taller woman slumped down, bowing her head and kissing Carson's damp scalp. Her hair fell, silken and soft, down past Carson's head. They stayed like that for a while, Carson humming a quiet, calming song. Without conscious intent, they started rocking there, Carson rubbing comforting circles into the small of Anna's back.

"Work was hard today," Anna murmured.

"I can tell," Carson replied gently, as tender a partner as she was a fierce fighter, "Did anything particularly bad happen?"

"My boss is awful."

"I can come talk to her sometime. Let her know you're doing the best you can."

Anna sighed. "Yeah. No. That'll just make it worse."

Carson craned her head upwards, resting her chin against the hollow of Anna's throat, her mouth against soft skin. When she pouted her lips in a soft kiss, Anna held her tighter. Smoke wafted past them, Anna holding the cigarette between two fingers.

"You said you were going to stop smoking, Anna."

"I know I did."

"You also said you would see your therapist again. Talk about boundaries. Work stress."

"I know."

"I love you."

"I know," Anna replied, voice wavering, "I love you, too. Thank you. Thank you."

***

Sometimes, Anna needed to feel that she was in control. She needed to shrug off the helplessness of her real life, needed to push back against the tide of anxiety, pressure, and expectation. Carson knew the darkness that Anna felt, had encountered it herself in different forms. At first, the things Anna needed had clashed with Carson's own pleasures, but the years had changed Carson, helped her view her body differently. She still felt better when she was dominant, still preferred the reassuring sight of a silicone cock emerging from the packing shorts that she wore every single day. But she liked being on her back too, liked being on her belly for a beautiful woman, masculine and butch and androgynous as she arched and groaned for the only one that she truly loved. And knowing that she was bringing Anna pleasure, that Anna enjoyed taking control, helped her get off.

She spread her fingers against bedspread, soft cotton beneath her palm. She panted hotly, knees digging into the mattress, toes curling. With one muscular, defined arm, she clutched a pillow, bunched it up beneath her head. Hands were on her hips, long fingers holding her securely, Anna's nails trimmed short and blunt. Her girlfriend's cock, a plastic extension of female desire, moved fluidly in and out of Carson, the way eased by hours of foreplay and generous lubricant. Anna was breathing hard too, rolling her bottom lip beneath her teeth and biting down, whispering filthy things as she slowly fucked Carson. The moist sounds, the wet glide of her inside Carson's body was a testament to how far they had both come to understand this, to understand that having sex this way was even possible. Carson had tried scissoring, once, led by stupid porn videos starring straight chicks. Thank fuck she was over that phase. What she did with Anna, that was _real_ lesbian sex. And fuck, was she glad to be doing it.

"Touch yourself," Anna whispered.

Carson hardly needed to be told twice. She kept ahold of the pillow in one arm, reaching beneath her body with the other. She shifted to brace her collarbone against the pillow, head hanging down against the mattress now, face inclined to the side. She curled her fingers against herself, exhaling at the sensation of touch, pads of skin against a sensitive bud of flesh. She liked this, enjoyed being fucked this way, though she preferred to be the one doing the fucking. Any sex with Anna was good sex.

"Does it feel good?"

"Yeah, babe," Carson replied, words thick with lust, "Yeah, yeah."

She was rocked in place, the frame of their bed creaking. Although this wasn't her preference, it was hot to be facedown like this, a woman behind her. Submissiveness didn't come naturally to Carson, but Anna brought it out in her where otherwise it might be absent. As she quietly groaned, Anna reached a hand down her back, palm travelling down the length of her spine and coming to rest between her shoulder blades. A spark of arousal burst in Carson's belly, a kind of vulnerable delight that only this position could encourage.

"Unh," Carson grunted as Anna thrust harder inside her, "Fuck, yeah. _Yeah_. Come on. Come on."

Anna's motions increased in frequency, the wet sounds faster now. She was breathing harder, too. The shorts she wore had an O-ring sewn into them, through which her cock emerged. Below that, in the crotch of the underwear, a small vibrator was secured. Every time she swayed her body forward, hips seeking deeper penetration, she also pressed her clit up against the vibrating bullet.

"Fuck," Carson said breathlessly, "Anna-"

"You're the only one that- _shit-_ you're the only one that makes it better-"

Carson inhaled sharply, her body throbbing eagerly. There was no aphrodisiac like hearing Anna's overcome pleasure laid out in unfiltered, gasped, raw confessions.

"Love this, love you- wanna fuck you every day, every day- want you to fuck me too, Carson, babe, _fuck,_ "

"More, tell me more-"

"Your body, your cunt-"

"Yeah, you like it,"

"Fucking _love_ it, Carson," Anna told her, "God, how could I not-"

They kept going like this, fucking faster and faster, the age of their bed frame making itself known. Anna leaned down against Carson, clutching her close, breasts pillowing against her back. She continued swivelling her hips, driving her cock deep inside Carson's body, face turned to huff against Carson's temple. Her hair spilled over them both as they fucked. She smelled of plain soap and strawberry shampoo, fruity scents threading themselves through Carson's bleary-eyed state of mind, her lips parted to make way for senseless, delighted cries, eyes half-lidded and unfocussed.

"Hope you- _unhh-_ Hope you know that nobody- nobody's ever done this to me," Carson moaned, "before you,"

Anna's hips stuttered in their motions, but she didn't--couldn't--halt the spiralling feelings of heat and need which pummelled through her with all the force of an avalanche.

"You- You never told me that."

"It's just you," Carson whispered, "Nobody else, I wouldn't let anyone else fuck me like this."

She was returning the favour without intending to, unguarded admissions in return for Anna's own precious truth. She had worked for so many years to understand herself, understand what it meant to be the kind of woman she was, and she wanted Anna to know that this _mattered._ That she let Anna penetrate her, that she let Anna press her into the bed and make hard, sweet love to her. They continued to exchange their confessions, words that nobody else ought to know, words meant for their ears only. And still the bed continued to creak, every thrust of Anna's body in pursuit of mutual bliss, every push and pull of their experiences inextricably entwined. 

The crescendo of their love built, voices rising in tandem, their neighbours blushing with uptight shyness at the lesbians' unashamed sexual freedom. Anna usually came first, the vibrations and the motions of fucking pushing her over the edge, but this day was different. Carson's fingers had gone numb beneath the weight of their bodies, hand trapped below her groin. But she didn't need to reach her hand backward to seek out her clit, didn't need to press and rub to get off in ways penetration never quite managed to accomplish. This time, her head went fuzzy, with boiling, white-hot stimulation; emotion, love, arousal, and the weight of her sexually oppressed past were all uniting to form one magnificent orgasmic peak, as she realised that this was the most _real_ she had ever been, the most devoted she had ever found herself becoming to another woman. She came, shuddering herself into a silent, open-mouthed climax as Anna continued to thrust.

***

Afterwards, they lay together, sticky and hot but not willing to part. Carson smiled, tears blooming behind closed eyelids, forming glittering beads against her lashes. When Anna did pull out, leaning down to kiss Carson proper, she saw the moisture on her girlfriend's cheeks.

"...Babe? Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

Carson looked up at her, face turned, cheek smushed against the mattress. She smiled, the expression wobbling. For a long moment, she didn't reply, and Anna grew more concerned.

"Carson?"

"I'm fine," Carson reassured her, pushing up off the bed now. She grabbed her girlfriend in a tight hug, the kind of hug that strains arms and crushes the breath from your lover. She squeezed her eyes shut and squeezed Anna even tighter, grinning against Anna's shoulder. Mildly confused, and still somewhat worried, Anna hesitantly held her back.

"Just emotional," Carson told her, words muffled, "Just... It's so good."

"What is?"

"You. Everything. All of this."


End file.
